Down to Size
by MayDecemberMyHeart
Summary: Hermione Granger awakes to find an intruder in her room, and doesn't quite know what to do with him. Or how to keep her bloody cat from eating him. SS/HG
1. Chapter 1

"Put me down! Put me down this instance, you flea-bitten mousetrap!"

Hermione Granger bolted upright in her bed, having been roused from a dead sleep by...voices.

There was someone in her room.

There was someone in her fucking room!

Hermione fumbled for her wand in the darkness, quite ashamed and infuriated that she wasn't able to lay hands on it immediately. Were they not in the middle of a war? Were there not Death Eaters lurking around every corner, waiting for some moronic little twit to misplace her wand? Professor Moody would be mortified. "Constant vigilance!" she fumed under her breath, heaving a sigh of relief when her fingers found smooth wood hiding underneath a pillow.

"Lumos!"

Squinting slightly as the room was bathed in a soft light, Hermione moved from the bed and placed her back firmly against the wall as she took in her surroundings.

 _"Table...chair...dresser... no one hiding there."_

The room was as sparsely decorated as the rest of the house, with the exception of Sirius's childhood bedroom. No one had the stomach to sort through the clutter of memories that belonged to the age of the Marauders, so the room remained untouched, a bizarre shrine that none but Remus could bear to pay homage to. Hermione shuddered, allowing the macabre essence of the house to wash over her. She definitely looked forward to a time when she didn't have to spend her holidays at Grimmauld Place. She suspected Harry quite felt the same way.

Satisfied that she was alone in her room -save for Crookshanks, who was curled into a fluffy ball in the corner- Hermione put her wand away and started to climb back into the bed. _"Constant vigilance!"_ a voice growled in the back of her mind. She froze. Oh, _how_ could she have been so stupid? Drawing her wand and backing away from the bed, she dropped to her knees to check the first place she should have checked... under the bed.

Nothing.

Hermione giggled as she rose to her feet and climbed back into bed. _"This is it, Hermione Granger. You've gone 'round the bend. You're absolutely barking."_ Spending several hours a day around Alastor Moody was obviously not good for one's psyche. She was getting almost as paranoid as the auror himself. "Constant vigilance," she whispered as she closed her eyes and prepared to nod off. "Constant vigilance indeed."

"Would you get your bloody paws out of my back?"

Hermione's eyes flew open and her wand was in her hand before she even registered that she had been reaching for it.

She was not crazy.

She was also not alone.

"I will not tell you again, furball!"

 _"Do not panic, Hermione. Do not panic."_

"Oh don't act like you can't hear me! I know you're half-Kneazle. Your know-it-all little mistress tells anyone who looks remotely interested."

 _"Know-it-all little mistress? The nerve!"_ Hermione fumed, constant vigilance leaving her mind as something akin to indignant fury took over. She raised her wand to cast her light once more, but was interrupted by someone throwing a little indignant rant of their own.

"If you lick me I swear I will..."

Hermione's face scrunched up in mild disgust. _"Lick?"_ As quietly as she possibly could, she pushed the covers away from her body and tiptoed out of the bed, listening for the offending voice.

"You know, once I'm my rightful size again your ugly face and the heel of my dragon-hide boot are going to get _very_ friendly."

Hermione scowled. She knew that voice. There was an unusual tone to it, and it sounded rather far away, but she knew that voice. Now what was _that_ voice doing in _her_ room?

A half-hearted growl from the corner of the room Crookshanks was inhabiting grabbed Hermione's attention. His back was turned to her, unusual for her protective familiar, and he appeared to be swiping at something with his abnormally large paw.

"Oh, bugger off!"

Hermione shivered. The voice was coming from somewhere in the vicinity of her beloved cat. Crookshanks growled again and Hermione took a few hurried steps forward.

"Keep it up. You'll wake her again and then she'll wake the whole house up and then we'll both have a lot of explaining to do."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped closer to Crookshanks and took a peek over his shoulder.

All the color drained from her face.

"Too late, Professor."

 **a/n: So here it is! My first chapter of my first SS/HG! This will probably go way AU, because, quite frankly, there is nowhere else for it to go, lol. That's your fair warning. And this will get very adult, so beware. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: Rowling owns everything.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Do say something, Miss Granger. It's been almost a full two minutes and you haven't asked a single question. I'm almost concerned."

Hermione opened her mouth then slammed it shut again.

"No? Well could you at least remove your pet from my person? I'm not particularly fond of cats."

Nope. Hermione couldn't do that either. Her arms hung limp by her sides and her feet were apparently glued to the floor.

"Please, Miss Granger?"

A jolt of panic swept through Hermione as the severity of the situation hit her. Professor Severus Snape sat on her bedroom floor, disheveled and flustered and firmly pinned to the floor by an enormous orange paw.

Or maybe it wasn't all that enormous.

It could have just been the fact that Professor Snape seemed to have shrunk down to the size of a telephone receiver. Or maybe even smaller. It was hard to tell in the dark. "Lumos," Hermione whispered, helping herself to a closer look.

Definitely smaller than a telephone receiver.

 _"Well,"_ Hermione thought, unable to tear her eyes away from her professor's miniature form, _"in the words of Ronald Weasley...bloody hell!"_

"Miss Granger... This is humiliating. Please help me."

Grimacing, Hermione grabbed for Crookshanks, ignoring his struggling insistence that he be put down so he could play with his new favorite toy. "Stop it, Crooks," Hermione admonished softly. "You know full well that he is not for you."

"How reassuring," Professor Snape sneered from the floor. Pulling himself into a seated position, he glared at the feline and his young mistress. "I wasn't aware that telling a cat to stop doing something actually yielded results. I ought to try that on Minerva one of these days."

Funny.

Severus Snape was being funny.

He was scared.

Still cradling Crookshanks, Hermione let herself sink to the floor in front of Professor Snape. "What can I do?"

"You can get rid of the furball, for one thing." Professor Snape glared at Crookshanks and the cat gave what can only be construed as a warning growl in return, prompting Hermione to move her pet from her lap in an attempt to place him on the floor. Much to her confusion, the professor's sallow skin took on a rosy blush. "On second thought, the pest was perfectly placed. Put. Him. Back."

Hermione blanched as Professor Snape's gaze passed fleetingly over her lower half. Crookshanks was immediately pulled into her lap once more, the scratching of his nails leaving welts across her thighs.

It was really her own fault. What ever possessed her to wear a tank top and panties in a house full of people?

Judging by the expression on Professor Snape's face, he was wondering the same thing.

"Perhaps Molly Weasley should forgo the hideous sweaters this Christmas and knit everyone hideous pajamas instead. If I see one more unclothed Gryffindor teenager tonight I might gouge my own eyes out."

Professor Snape smirked at Hermione's blatantly curious expression.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley should learn to be more discreet with their nightly trysts. Perhaps that's something you'd like to pass along, Miss Granger?"

Trysts?

Oh, Merlin.

Harry and Ginny were having sex.

It really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. Harry was a teenage boy, and Ginny was... Ginny. Hermione had never met a girl so eager for a relationship with someone she barely knew. Ginny had a crush, sure, but she couldn't even recall Harry's favorite color if her life depended on it.

And now they were having sex.

With Ginny's parents just downstairs.

Idiots.

"I feel it's in your best interest to inform you, Miss Granger, that you don't have much of a poker face," Professor Snape drawled from his spot on the floor, his sneer only somewhat diminished by his impossibly small size. "Whatever you think and feel plays out on your face like a muggle movie. And yes, I have been to a muggle movie. In a real muggle theater. Shocking."

"I wasn't thinking..."

But yes, yes she was.

"As amusing as the thought of the dreaded dungeon bat at a muggle movie must be, and as appalling as the idea of lustful Gryffindor dalliances definitely is, I think there are more important things to consider at the moment."

Right.

"How did...what...what happened, Sir?" Hermione stammered, afraid of the answer.

"Finally. I was wondering when you were going to get to that." Stretching his legs in front of him, Professor Snape leaned back on his elbows, a casual pose for such a straight-laced man.

It threw Hermione completely off balance.

And the sudden mischievous glint in the professor's eyes certainly didn't help matters.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, are you always this easily distracted? Or have I simply caught you at a bad time?"

Hermione flushed.

"I'm not distracted, Sir! I am confused. I am upset. I am seriously wondering if I might still be asleep." Shifting Crookshanks to one arm, Hermione tested that theory by pinching the outside of her thigh.

She was most assuredly awake.

"And, if you must know, I am completely mortified that one of my teachers has seen me in my underwear."

Spots of pink reappeared on Professor Snape's pale cheeks, but his face remained neutral.

"But I am not distracted. What happened?"

Professor Snape shrugged. "If you're asking how I got this way, I'm not quite sure. There are numerous shrinking spells and I couldn't hear the one used."

"Good to know, but that's not what I was asking," Hermione snapped, not quite caring anymore that it was a teacher she was snapping at. "Who did this to you?"

"My, my," Professor Snape crooned. "Quite demanding for a schoolgirl who is going to want to maintain her O in Potions."

"And you're rather confident that I'm not going to let my cat use you as a chew toy."

As if on cue, Crookshanks began to squirm in her arms again, his eyes never leaving the tiny professor. Her arms tightened around him at the sudden twinge of fear in the professor's eyes. No, it wouldn't do for her to try and intimidate a helpless man.

A _tiny_ helpless man.

Whom she could squash like a bug.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Calm down, Professor. I've got him," Hermione sighed, pleased when Professor Snapes' face schooled back into its usual sneer. "But you must tell me who did this to you."

"And why must I do that?"

"So we can find them and get them to change you back!"

"Ha!"

Hermione blinked.

Did Professor Snape just _laugh_?

"Bloody brilliant! You think you're just going to waltz into Malfoy Manor and demand that Lucius reverse the spell? Fucking incredible..."

"Lucius Malfoy? But..."

"Yes. Lucius Malfoy." Professor Snape's amused chucked morphed into an almost manic laughter.

Hermione was terrified.

"Lucius finally got the jump on me. Over a game of chess! Over a fucking game of Wizard's chess!"

Professor Snape's back hit the floor as his elbows seemed to give way. Hermione watched, enraptured, as he ran his hands over his face and though his hair repeatedly, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream.

 _"Too bad, Professor. If I don't get to be dreaming, you don't get to be dreaming."_

"To be fair, this is really all my fault," Professor Snape continued with a sigh, letting his hands rest on his abdomen. "Lucius has always been a rather sore loser. And a vindictive little shit. Should have just let him win. I was just so sick of letting him win..."

Questions...so many questions...but Hermione held her tongue. It seemed as if Professor Snape was trying to sort through some personal issues, and she was sure he didn't want or need her help.

Even though he was in her bedroom.

On her floor.

Tiny.

Which meant that he, in fact, needed her help.

Wanting it was a different story.

Fuck it.

"Professor..."

"Wait, Miss Granger," Professor Snape said quietly, bringing his hands to his forehead as if to ward off a headache. "Just wait."

"But..."

"Miss Granger, I know you have questions and suggestions and enough bad ideas to keep us talking all night long, but before you begin, I'd like a moment."

"A moment?" Hermione cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. She knew how the professor felt about foolish questions...

"Yes, Miss Granger, a moment." Removing his hands from his head, Professor Snape relaxed his arms at his sides and closed his eyes. "I need a moment to think. To...acclimate myself to the situation. To get some oxygen to my brain."

In other words...shut the fuck up for a minute.

Hermione could do that.

For about a minute.

It was the longest minute of Hermione's life. She sat, trying not to fidget as the room fell into complete silence. Even Crookshanks seemed to understand that it would behoove him to stop groveling in the professor's general direction.

The house wasn't even creaking and groaning in its sleep.

That in itself creeped the hell out of her.

Finally, Professor Snape opened his eyes.

"You may begin, Miss Granger."

 **a/n: I am so pleased with the response to this story! I wasn't sure that a lot of people would be interested, but the feedback has been great! Thank you all so much for the reviews and follows/favorites.**

 **And I still own nothing. Pretty sure I'm not gonna own anything next time either. Boooooooo.**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's excitement was almost uncontainable. Severus Snape was giving her permission to do what she loved to do best... ask questions.

But where to start?

"I'm waiting."

Well...patience had never been one of Professor Snape's virtues, but Hermione was of the opinion that being spelled down to the size of a large potion vial should greatly alter one's attitude.

" _Miss_ Granger, how is it that _I'm_ the one with a problem and _you're_ the one who acts as if the world has collapsed around her?"

So much for that theory.

"My world hasn't collapsed! My world is just fine," Hermione lied, forcing herself to meet Professor Snape's annoyed glare. "I'm just thinking."

"Ah." Professor Snape raised his brows and crossed his hands back over his abdomen, looking almost bored. "And here I've always found you a rather noisy thinker. Consider my mind effectively blown."

A retort bubbled at Hermione's lips, but was cut off by a sudden thumping in the hall outside her room. Her eyes widened in panic, but the professor remained calm.

"Calm down. I'm sure it's just your randy little friend returning to her room."

Hermione nodded, trying not to focus on the fact that it was Ginny who sought Harry out in the night, and not the other way around.

 _"Really, Ginny. There's pursuing a boy and then there's being a downright slut."_

"Unbelievable. You are unbelievable." Professor Snape huffed as he hauled himself back onto his elbows, his usually tame ebony locks falling haphazardly onto his face. "To think that I was the tiniest bit relieved to have been delivered into the hands of the only person in Grimmauld Place with any sense. I was obviously out of my fucking mind to think that you would be of any help. You're too worried about what's going on inside your friend's knickers to give a damn about what happens to me. Teenagers. Fucking useless."

Hermione bristled.

"How dare you? I am anything but useless! I am..."

"So help me... if you try to rest your laurels on the fact that you are "Harry Potter's best friend", I will retch all over this floor. How many "best friends" is a person allowed to have, anyway?"

"As many as it takes!" Hermione cried, jumping to her feet. "What does it matter to you how many friends Harry has?"

"I can assure you, Miss Granger, it matters not one bit," Professor Snape growled as he rose to his feet and stood at his full height of...five inches.

While it was hard to estimate his size while he was lying on the floor, it was incredibly easy to measure while he was standing up.

He wasn't the size of a quill.

More like the size of a ballpoint pen.

A ballpoint pen that her father kept stuffed in his pocket at all times, and that kept her mother's long, thick hair secure in its bun...

A ballpoint pen that she chewed on while she wrote gossipy letters to her friends during the summer.

A ballpoint pen that she chewed on...

She always chewed on the cap.

The image was clear in her head now, whether she wanted it or not. Severus Snape, dangling from her fingertips as she decided exactly what wording to use in her letter to Ron. Severus Snape, tangled in her hair, suffocating under mounds of curls. Severus Snape, shoved, forgotten, into the back pocket of her fading denims...

Severus Snape's head between her teeth as she chewed lightly and pondered life.

She laughed so hard she cried.

Bad move.

"Amused, are we?"

Professor Snape folded his arms over his chest and Hermione's guffaws grew louder.

"Yes!" Normally it would not have been in Hermione's best interest to goad Severus Snape, but under these circumstances, it was almost impossible not to. "I wish you could see yourself from up here, Professor. It's quite a sight!"

 _"And you can't hex me into next week for laughing!"_

"It might behoove you to remember, Miss Granger, that while I may not exactly know where my wand is at the moment, and while I may be a tad bit small..."

Hermione snorted, emboldened by images of Snape's head between her teeth.

"Once you get me to the headmaster -which I'm _certain_ you were about to do- I will be my proper size and also properly pissed. If you ever doubted my ability to make my students' lives a living hell, maybe I just wasn't trying hard enough... a problem that can be easily remedied."

Well if that was his reaction to her laughter, she really didn't want to see his reaction to what she had to say next.

"Umm... Professor? I think you've forgotten..."

Fortunately, Hermione was saved from telling Professor Snape exactly what he'd forgotten.

 _Un_ fortunately, it was by a knock at her door.

"Hermione?" Ginny's low whisper traveled miraculously well through the thick wood of the door and sent shivers down Hermione's spine. "Can I come in?"

The sky could have fallen in and Hermione wouldn't have been any more horrified.

"What do I do?" she whispered frantically, staring down at Professor Snape as if he had the answer.

Old habits...

"Well obviously you don't let her in, stupid child," Professor Snape sneered, as if that were the dumbest thing that had ever exited her mouth.

He'd be surprised.

"But she'll keep knocking! And if I don't answer she'll know something's wrong!" Hermione hissed again, gesturing at he door when Ginny rapped again. "If I don't answer she'll think I've been kidnapped! Or murdered!"

Professor Snape ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she itched to tell him reminded her of Harry when he was exasperated.

"Perhaps Miss Weasley will simply think you're a light sleeper. Not everyone jumps to the worst possible conclusions every time their presence is ignored. And, furthermore, the worst thing that could happen to you in this piece of shit house is falling through the rotted floor."

"Says the five-inch-tall man."

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice called through the door, reminding Hermione that it was a horrible time to pick a fight. "Who are you talking to?"

"Shit," Hermione hissed.

They were screwed.

Unless...

Jostling Crookshanks until he was firmly situated under one elbow, Hermione ignored the professor's mortified expression and did the only thing she could do... placed her fingers around his waist and lifted him up into the air.

"Granger! Put me down! Now!"

"No can do, Professor. I've got to get rid of Ginny, and you've got to hide. Unless, of course, you want to explain what happened to her, too..."

Professor Snape squirmed in her hand and Crookshanks squirmed under her arm. Could neither one of them just behave?

She knew what she was doing.

Sort of.

"If you breathe one word..."

"Hermione? What's going on in there?" Ginny called insistently, jiggling the doorknob.

"Fine," Professor Snape finally relented. "Hide me. Hide me and send Miss Weasley back to Potter," he commanded imperiously.

"Hermione, I'm unlocking this door and coming in."

"Sorry, Professor." Hermione grimaced as she rushed to the bed. "Don't move." Pulling back the covers, she tossed Professor Snape under them and covered him completely.

"Alohomora!"

Hermione barely had time to jump away from the bed before Ginny stormed into the room, her face flushed and her eyes wide. "What the hell, Hermione?"

"Sorry, Ginny," Hermione stammered. "I was trying to get to the door."

Ginny cocked her hip and crossed her arms over her chest, a perfect replica of Molly Weasley facing down a lying child. "Was I interrupting something?" she asked playfully, eyeing Hermione's skimpy attire.

Hermione flushed. "Interrupting something?"

"You were talking to someone! I heard you."

Hermione really needed to work on her whispering.

Thinking fast, she pulled Crookshanks from under her arm and held him in front of her chest. "It was Crookshanks!"

Ginny's arms left her chest and her hands landed on her hips.

Not good when Molly Weasley did it... terrifying when Ginny Weasley did it.

"You were talking to your cat?"

"He was just being a rotten little creature, playing with things that do not belong to him." Much to her amusement, Crookshanks let out a low growl of disagreement.

Ginny smirked. "So you gave him a good scolding?"

Hermione grinned. "Well...he is half-Kneazle."

That was all it took to get her friend off her back.

"Ugh! I know! Half-Kneazle! Understands humans... Smarter than the average pet... Heals the blind..." Ginny's voice rose comically as she mocked Hermione's loving boasts.

At any other given moment, Hermione would have been downright insulted on her pet's behalf, but at this particular moment, she was more concerned that Ginny had migrated from her doorway and was headed for the bed.

"Far be it from me to interrupt a good scolding, but when you're finished chatting with your cat, I need a huge favor."

Hermione watched in horror as her friend fanned out her arms and collapsed lazily on the bed... right on top of the pile of covers that hid Professor Snape.

Fuck it all.

 **a/n: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I tried to respond to all of my reviews, but if I missed one of you, I am sorry. Just know that I read and appreciate every one.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada.**


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